Meron 5, 748
by Fati Sasspants
Summary: Oneshot. Sixteen year old Vegeta, making a name for himself as sufficient and reliable soldier, lands on Planet Meron 5 to carry out Frieza's orders. It is the first and last time he shows mercy.


Vegeta scowled as he pulled himself from the small ship, each of his boots making a dull thud against the planet's terrain. A number of small white pods embedded in the Earth around him began to hiss; hatches opened and soldiers heaved themselves out into the open air. They groaned and stretched skyward, shaking life back into heavy limbs.

Planet Meron 5 was considerably smaller than its previously conquered counterparts, populated by a peaceful race whose name he couldn't quite recall. A quick job. Protocol called for several men to scout the area, which he allowed, as the last planet's inhabitants fought back with more vigor than expected, and when they reported back with their findings, he dispatched the others without a word. There was no need for directions to be given; each man knew what must be done.

He waited patiently, watching the chaos unfold before him. Soon thick, dark smoke loomed in the air; the screams of the people just barely masked by the deep rumbling beneath his feet. He was in his teens, leading troops to distant planets for takeover operations, as his own people had once done. Only doing it for Frieza made his insides crawl. There still were plenty of men who fumed at the thought of taking orders from a sixteen year old, but they were no worry to him. He had earned the right to take charge, after proving himself again and again.

To pass the time, he joined in the wreckage, firing a few energy blasts into buildings and homes, but otherwise let the rest do the dirty work. He was still a prince, after all. The waiting took what felt like hours, but eventually, things quieted, save for the crackle of fire and the scorched buildings crumbling beneath their own weight.

One of the men brought a cluster of weeping, sniveling natives before him just as everyone was readying to leave.

A whisper of, "he's just a child," rose into the air.

A woman with long, singed hair, clutching the shoulders of a young boy cried, "Why are you doing this?"

"You have no right!" someone else shouted, only to be silenced by a swift kick to the torso. The man's limp body pulled up earth as he skidded across the ground, eventually slowing to a stop. Several of the townspeople gasped in horror. The man did not get up again.

"These are the last few," a man told him. "They managed to put up a pretty good fight."

Vegeta cast a scrutinizing glare at the man. "Why are you wasting my time?"

"S-sir?"

"The only reason you've brought these people before me is that they've managed to outsmart you somehow," Vegeta explained. All the imbecile wanted was approval to exact revenge, and bringing your prisoners to the man (or boy, in his case) in charge would strike an intense fear into them, something the bottom dwellers thrived on.

"Please," the woman from before begged, breaking out into a sob. "Don't do this!" She stared deeply into his eyes, searching for even a hint of compassion.

He looked again at the young boy, arms falling to his sides. He was young—six, maybe seven, with large, terrified eyes. Vegeta thought for a moment, and then he did something no one had done for him. "Kill them," he said darkly. The boy would perish on his own land, surrounded by his own kind, maybe even in his mother's arms. Never would he have to know the pain of being the last of his race. "And be quick about it, we haven't got all day."

It was the first and last time he would ever show mercy.

A few of his men groaned, but nonetheless replied, "yes, sir!" and began advancing on the woman and child in a chorus of sinister chuckles.

"No! Please, no!"

The child began crying. "Mommeee! Don't hurt my mom!"

Vegeta turned so that he would not have to witness their demise. He moved further and further away from the frightened cries, headed back to his pod. There were more planets in line to face Frieza's wraith. The pod door clicked shut and he shot into the sky; he flew through space knowing that the woman's eyes would stay with him until the day came that he drew his last breath.

* * *

_**If I've got my math correct (which I probably don't, because, let's face it, if there's one thing I don't get, it's math) Vegeta should be around sixteen here.**__** If not, and I've completely messed up, feel free to let me know so I can fix it. Frankly I'm tired of headdesking over my calculator.  
**_

_** As always, critiques and even flames welcome.**_


End file.
